Carry On
by PuzzlerthePony
Summary: Amid the chaos of a dire mistake, Hiccup must learn to cope with the consequences of a science experiment gone wrong. Hulk!AU
1. The Fear of War

**Here's a little something from my tumblr (which is a secret until my friend leaves my gmail alone and stops blackmailing me, if you're wondering) that I thought would be cool on Fanfiction.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD.**

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><p><em>Two years.<em>

Hiccup thought as he turned a corner, his keen eyes scanning rooftops and alleyways for potential snipers. His footfalls pounded in his ears as unseen men surrounded Hiccup at all angles.

Two years that he had been living on the run, under the radar, moving from town to town and from country to country were ruined –_all because of a simple mistake._

Computer, identification –everything he had worked for with his new cover had needed to be destroyed.

Self-experimentation was a really stupid idea.

The streets were empty at the time of night, and, despite the darkness of the dimly lit streets, Hiccup could feel the piercing gaze of soldiers on his back. But he couldn't run –_no_, Hiccup had to keep his heart-rate under control.

The Agency's men would be on Hiccup at any second.

Hiccup had seen the large van a mile away from his tiny apartment -a black van that just screamed _government_. He had jumped from the window just in the nick of time, as a dozen agents burst into his apartment.

Speeding up for a few moments, Hiccup's mind raced as he just _barely _avoided an agent's line of sight. He needed to escape, he needed to get back home, he needed to see Astrid again… _he just needed to buy some time._

Deftly, Hiccup weaved through empty streets, opting to stay in the less-populated side of town and away from street security cameras.

He continued his getaway at a brisk pace, hoping that just maybe he had evaded the agents. Hiccup's body surged with an increasing rush of adrenaline, and, quickly, he moved further into the night, where up around a corner was a dead end.

Hiccup froze, his heart pounding in his chest with a familiar thrumming. He couldn't panic –he could just turn around; Hiccup just needed to stay perfectly, _perfectly_ calm –_he needed to be in control._

He just needed to breathe. _In. Out. In. Out. In…_

Hiccup was slammed into a wall by an unseen force.

"Vel, vel…" Dread welled in his gut, as Hiccup was backed into the bricks by a large man with black hair, a deranged smirk crossing the thug's face. Several other muggers flanked Hiccup, standing side-by-side with their leader.

Hiccup raised his arm, holding it in front of his attackers while checking the number that his heart-rate monitor read with trepidation.

_186._

The thrumming in Hiccup's chest turned into a pounding, as he carefully moved into a defensive posture. _Not here._

With lightning speed, the blade of a knife was brought into Hiccup's proximity, as the leader of the thugs instantly became serious. "Hånden over kontanter, _nå!"_

The strike team was closing in on him. Though, they would be the least of his problems if he couldn't get out of the alleyway soon.

"No-no," Hiccup stuttered in his native tongue and then continued. "Jeg trenger å komme ut herfra."

The leader frowned, and, as fast as his expression changed, he quickly slashed his blade across his victim's arm. Hiccup hissed in pain, looking behind them sporadically for any movement. Flashes of black moved in the night.

"Vær så snill, trenger du ikke forstår…"

The men eyed him with contempt. Another man –one with a ring through his nose – stepped to the forefront of the confrontation and drove his fist into Hiccup's ribs.

Laughs resounded throughout the alleyway.

That blow and a nod from the leader were all the other men needed as a cue to take a hit at Hiccup themselves.

A cloud was forming in Hiccup's mind as each man threw a slew of kicks and punches at their prey. Each blow awakened a primitive, dangerous instinct in Hiccup's mind –one that was becoming stronger by the second.

_It was happening._ Already, Hiccup could feel the differences spreading like a virus.

_Not good. _

He just needed to stay calm and focus and breathe… _In. Out_ –

The wind was knocked out of Hiccup as he fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

His heart was racing, and, faintly, Hiccup could register the tell-tale stickiness of blood that was dribbling down his face. The world was becoming a blur, the thugs standing over him moving liquidly around like grey blobs in his vision. The pounding in his chest had turned into downright burning.

Hiccup groaned, the pain radiating through his body both inside and out; he could hear the group of thugs talking –jeering –but could not make out a word that they were saying.

Once more, Hiccup checked his monitor. From his place on the ground, he angled his arm towards his face. He was losing consciousness fast.

_197, 198, 199…_

The thug with the ring in his nose kicked Hiccup in the ribs once more.

_200._

Hiccup's mind went blank, and an inhuman screech cut through the air.

The men behind the ring-nosed man paused, as the victim became hidden by the shadows. A cry of terror cut into the air as the man was pulled the darkness.

The operations team stormed into the alleyway, shoving through the crowd of thugs who slowly backed away from the scene. Weapons positioned every which way, the task force skillfully edged into the dead end.

Rifles and pistols at the ready, everyone stood still. A thick tension filled the air; not one person dared to speak, the only noise being a dull thump against the pavement. Warily, the agents at the front of the task force slinked forward, until a set of large, green eyes opened towards them and then disappeared, the figure hidden by the darkness.

The man with the ring in his nose flew over the crowd, landing over the crew of thugs who quickly ran away from the scene.

_"Unknown hostile in the alleyway."_ a short soldier with black hair motioned his team back.

One soldier paid no heed to his commanding officer's orders, instantly charging at the shadows.

A piercing roar echoed through the streets, and the shape of the figure gained a sudden clarity. It jumped into action, clawing at anything it could reach.

_It wasn't human._

_"RETREAT!" _

_"There is an unknown hostile opening fire, and Mr. Haddock has escaped. I repeat, Mr. Haddock has escaped." _The commanding officer ducked through his fellow soldiers, trying to lead the team to safety. The creature lunged at other soldiers with shrieks and growls, hissing as they began to open fire.

The commanding officer took his pistol out of his belt, watching with shock that bullets were bouncing off of the creature's armor-like coat of skin.

Carefully, he aimed at the figure's eyes…

And what could only be described as a giant, black lizard pinned him to the ground. The bullet hadn't hit its mark, but it succeeded in angering the reptile. The officer had just_ barely_ missed an eye.

Another slew of bullets bombarded the creature as it bared its teeth, prepared to finish the commanding officer. Its eyes narrowed into slits, turning its head toward the source of the fire –two snipers hid on top of a building with their rifles.

This distraction gave the commanding officer enough time to slip out from underneath the lizard. Hurriedly, he took cover behind a dumpster, reloading his pistol with the practiced and quick skills of any experienced soldier.

_"Sergeant Jorgenson, do you read?"_

Charging out into the open streets, the creature opened a pair of wings that were hidden by the night and leapt into the air.

"Sergeant Jorgenson, reporting, sir!" The commanding officer responded through an earpiece. "Our unit is under heavy fire; request for backup?"

_"No, get your men back to headquarters immediately -Haddock is long gone."_

A thick silence settled over the small area where the operations team was located, until, faintly, a whistling noise broke the silence. A large, and unmistakably lizard- like figure could be spotted with a keen eye.

"It's back!" The two snipers began to shout. An explosion rocked their building.

_Yep,_ Haddock was long gone.

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><p><strong>If you caught the book reference I slipped in here, then you rock! <strong>

****I like reviews. \(O-O)/****

_**Here are the translations in order:**_

**"Hand over the cash, now!"**

**"I need to get out of here!"**

**"Please, you don't understand!"**


	2. The Pain of Division

**YES, I HAVE DECIDED TO CONTINUE THIS STORY!**

**Thank you for the great reviews, everyone, and thanks to the people who gave me feedback on Tumblr!**

**Anyways, the book reference that I slipped into the first chapter was with the thug with the ring in his nose, which was the only cameo from Dogsbreath the Duhbrain.**

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><p>Hiccup stumbled through mossy, countryside hills, any coverings long gone –save for the tattered remains of a pair of striped boxers. How those shorts had been able to stay on his body –even with the tears –was all but a mystery to the fugitive scientist.<p>

The sun was halfway through the sky, indicating that it was already midday. Soft breezes swayed the branches of leafless trees and blew through the fields, though Hiccup was chilled to the bone.

Shivering, the fugitive hugged his arms tightly to his body, any leftover heat in his body seeping out like the air in a deflating balloon. His breath fogged around him in mists as he groaned with fatigue.

Hiccup's back and shoulders ached with a pain that he could barely recall, flaring up a dull discomfort in his joints. Meanwhile, each time the scientist strode forward, his bones clicked together with a constant gritting.

Stopping for a moment, he leaned backward, popping his back with a satisfying _snap._

As he meandered his way down a steep hill, Hiccup found his way onto a dirt road. The change of terrain was immensely relieving for his bare feet.

Not a single car whizzed by as Hiccup continued on the dirt trail, where guard rails were all but missing from the roadsides. And no vehicle would dare to pick him up with the way was looking.

_Where was he even?_

Again, his back ached with a set of phantom pains as he peered over the edge for a moment.

_A mountain._ Hiccup was on a mountain.

At about one hundred feet above the next patch of flat ground, there was absolutely no way that the fugitive would be able to slide down any of the nearby ledges. Hiccup was positively certain that if he even tried to put one foot forward, he'd instantly fall –well, at least with his level of clumsiness.

Out in the distance was a city, where the fugitive would be forced onto the streets until he had the funds for proper clothing and shelter. Hiccup frowned.

Hiccup couldn't remember the last time he had an incident; usually, he was a pretty calm man.

Sometimes, Hiccup could remember flashes or snippets from his time as – _the lizard_, or whatever it was that he became. Sometimes, he could almost see clearly; but, at the time, Hiccup had given in to a moment of weakness –he had allowed instinct to take over his mind.

People were hurt because of him.

And Hiccup supposed that he was hurt too.

Every time Hiccup had woken up from an incident, he had to start all over. The fugitive would find himself brought to a completely different town or city with no clothes, no money, and no identity. Even if Hiccup wanted to go back to his old hideout and retrieve his belongings, they would be either destroyed or confiscated.

He had tried to get some of his belongings –_some of his identity_ –back, only to be devastated at the sight of a completely ransacked apartment.

Even if the agencies members were gone, Hiccup would always have to keep running, because, eventually, they would catch him.

There was no doubt in Hiccup's mind. Whether the agents would catch him the next day, two months, or even two more years from where he was, they would always, _always_ find him.

He was the property of the United States government and of the agency. Whether it was for information, or whether it was for his extraordinary genetic structure, they wanted him. Hiccup was a mine of data, and a living, breathing lab rat.

_And they wanted him. _

Of course, Hiccup would escape; he always did.

Maybe it was out of pure, dumb luck that he'd let himself become his own monster, or maybe he'd allow his heart rate to surge at the last, possible second. Hiccup was extremely grateful for those coincidences.

Though if there was one thing that Hiccup noticed each time that he had a crew of Special Forces storm through his apartment door in his honor, was that they were getting better.

The eyes in the sky were everywhere, watching Hiccup's every move, his habits, from the moment he woke up from the moment he fell asleep. Surveillance cameras followed him, crystal lens sending their finds back to the men at the agency. Hiccup wouldn't even dream of using a computer –or even a phone –for more than a minute.

The men behind the scenes would strategize for months, once they were certain of Hiccup's location. Carefully, they'd planned their next set of moves to detain the scientist.

By no means was it difficult. Bases were all over the world, and generals would send soldiers after Hiccup, who would go back to their homes injured _or worse_.

They had hundreds of readily trained men –the best of the absolute best field agents and sharpshooters, and an unlimited supply of weapons and armed assault vehicles. Hiccup remembered the last time that he was almost tranquilized by an agent. He remembered that the Forces almost, _almost_ nabbed him.

The agency had an infinite amount of time, money, and resources, and _what did he have?_

It was almost nightfall when Hiccup came across a small barn with a billboard nailed to the side of it. At the sight of the small building, the fugitive's eyes instantly lit up. It was small, sturdy, and would be a perfect place to rest for the night. Hiccup appreciated those kinds of creature comforts.

Hiccup ran up to the barn, where the faded letters soon became legible.

_Glasgow: Twenty Miles_

_Scotland_ – he had travelled across the entire North Sea.

At least everyone in the area would be speaking decent English. Though, Hiccup would have plenty of walking to do in the morning.

The fugitive shuddered once more, though he couldn't tell if it was out of fear or exhaustion. He was cold, tired, and hungry, and he needed to rest if he wanted to make it into the city by the afternoon.

And as the fugitive sunk into the warm hays on the ground, one thought remained in his mind, along with the constant thrumming inside of his chest.

_They would catch him_, and nothing could stop it from happening.

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><p>If any of his underlings said that Sergeant Snotlout Jorgenson was a relatively calm and laid-back guy, then that subordinate was severely mistaken and would probably be beaten up upon making said claims. In fact, Snotlout was livid.<p>

His team was given one easy task: get the scrawny scientist and bring him back to headquarters. All he had needed to do was pop a tranquilizer in Haddock's neck.

_Simple, right?_

That kid was _slow_, slow as Snotlout in his kindergarten years –couldn't even make a break for it without getting mugged by some thugs that the agent would have been able to take out in five seconds.

Subconsciously, he grasped for one of his arms, which were bandaged from his prior combat not even a day ago. The agent silently fumed, his mind trying to wrap itself around an unsolvable mystery.

_How had Haddock escaped the alleyway?_

There were no doors, hidden or otherwise; Haddock couldn't have climbed up the walls because it was too wide; and Snotlout had placed agents everywhere –the target wouldn't have been able to run five feet out of that place without being hit with a dart.

It was a dead end; the target was completely cornered.

Everything was going Snotlout's way. _Heck_, he could have nabbed Haddock by himself, until that giant lizard came out of absolute nowhere.

It was massive. With a lizard at _that size_, Snotlout definitely would have seen it climb in or out of the brick enclosure, even in the dead of night.

He'd almost hit it –he could have blinded the creature– and that thing had almost killed him. At least in the nick of time, the twins had come to his rescue.

Overhearing the conversation emitting from the two snipers who were sitting at a nearby table, Snotlout repeatedly tapped his boot against the ground in clear irritation.

_Thorstons…_

_"… And did you see the teeth on that thing, Ruff?"_ One of them shouted, a blonde man with a cast around his arms and a bandage on his forehead.

_"It was huge!"_ The other sniper yelled back to the blonde.

She, likewise, had a head of blonde hair with a few small braids poorly woven in between the standard bun that every female field agent was required to wear. As well as the male of the snipers, she wore a cast on one of her arms and was covered in bandages.

_"My bullets were bouncing right off its skin!"_ The male of the two wildly gestured with both arm and cast and then faced the woman once more. "And the best part _had_ to be that explosion!"

The female of the snipers nodded in agreement. _"Yeah, but, I must have hit it, like, way more times than you did."_

Instantly, the male sharpshooter's head whipped back in clear indignation.

_"Did not!"_

They butted their heads together like a couple of stag, eyes locked in a child-like staredown.

_"Did too!"_

Snotlout clenched his fist and promptly moved to the other end of the lounge, while the two continued their grappling that could be heard through the hallways.

_What was the kid wanted for anyway?_

He wasn't even given a file or a paper, so the field-agent knew almost nothing about Haddock.

Snotlout knew that Haddock couldn't have been more than his age. Heck, he'd even earned a Master's Degree at age nineteen and was a top researcher at…_ some place. _The agent hadn't payed attention to the briefing, but he did remember that the commander– an aging general –had only given Snotlout's team an objective, and nothing more.

He'd been given responsibility over an entire team. Snotlout had prove to the general and to his peers countless times that he was a natural-born leader. The agent was the perfect soldier for the job in apprehending the dangerous target.

They had thrown his men onto the field blindly; the men at the agency had given Snotlout a literal fool's errand. There were no orders for his team to be fighting an oversized, black reptile –a reptile that could fly and make buildings explode no less.

Snotlout's eyes widened with realization.

It couldn't be a simple coincidence. Snotlout had busted into Haddock's apartment with a horde of men, the target escaped, and then the reptile showed up afterward to wreak havoc on the field.

There was _something_ that _somebody _was not telling him.

And Snotlout was going to find out one way or another.

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><p><strong>REVIEWS MAKE ME WRITE MOAR :D<strong>

**How was this chapter? I'm trying to build actual plot here.**

**In case any of you are wondering, the next update will be after I finish my next big English assignment ~Puzzler**


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